Cold Water
by Taintless
Summary: She stops, eventually. A moment of despair. There's no point anymore, she tells herself. She closes her eyes, and sinks. He watches, and does nothing. Dark and angsty. Updated daily. FINISHED! Final chapter revised and thanks added.
1. The Default Chapter

All he can see is pale, slim shoulders and a long mane of golden hair. Golden, when it's wet, red when it's not. The lights plays on it, making it look shiny and non-significant. He knows that this is not the case in the day.

She is flushed; hot and red. Upset, although she does not cry. She never cries.

Every night, she comes in here, to the prefect bathroom. The bath is huge, and she is so, so small.

Every night, she comes in here to wash away her sins. All those dark thoughts in her head. She shouldn't have them, she thinks, and she tries to make herself pure and untainted again.

It never works. He does not know why she keeps trying.

The bubbles prevent him from seeing anything else of her; but he can see everything. In her eyes. In her expression. In her life.

She's so easy to read, and yet nobody does. Perhaps they are just incapable of it, so caught up in their own lives, or perhaps they just ignore it because they only want to see the good things. Either way, they only see her act; this smiling, carefree, innocent girl, small and pretty, useful when she needs to be, able to disappear when she's not.

She starts innocently. Washes her hair. Then she applies something to her face; a mask of some sort to cleanse her skin. Then she seizes a puff and rubs it over her shoulders. It does not take off the dirt only she can see. She always seems to grow frustrated.

But there's something different in her demeanour tonight. Her movements are a bit more fluid; final.

He watches; he always does.

He touches her body, everywhere. Not sexual; just an examination of the damage that has been done. She is not happy with what she sees. She sees her imperfections, and hates them.

She never cries; not with tears, anyway. But they are there, invisible.

She stops, eventually. A moment of despair. There's no point anymore, she tells herself. She closes her eyes, and sinks.

Sinks into the hot water, sinks into the darkness that calls out to her so loudly. She can breathe better under the water than she can when with her friends.

He watches, and does nothing.

She comes to the surface again. Her expression is startled. She blinks. So close... she's so close to what she needs. She blinks again. Tries to clear her head. Her hair looks darker now, contains more water, he supposes. Some of the bubbles are caught in it. Almost absently, she wipes them away, showing him more of her pale, skinny arm, showing him more of the pain she inflicts on herself.

Did she find her peace under that water? Did she run from it? Or did she just find herself faced with the realisation that she was drowning again?

She lies there for longer than usual. Then he sees something that he's never seen before. Tears. Long streams fall from her eyes. He can see the trails.

He moves. He does not watch any longer.

He does not watch any more; just this once. He does not rush. he returns to his sleeping place he shares with the Head Girl. She's up, of course, reading. He is glad to see her friends have not accompanied her.

She looks up at him with poison in her eyes as he sits opposite her, and stares.

After a few moments of wringing her hands, she simply gets up to depart to her room. She does not speak; she hasn't in a very long time. She'd tried, when she'd learned of his new found position opposite hers, to make a truce between them. He hadn't accepted it, nor would he ever, and now she doesn't think it was worth her time to even greet him.

But he stops her before she leaves him properly. "You'd want to check on _her _in the prefect bathroom."

She freezes, her hand on the doorknob. Slowly, she turns. Awkwardly, her hand is still on the doorknob, still ready to leave. "Why?" she says and her voice is unfamiliar, yet the emotion is one he has dealed with many times; from many and her. "What have you done?"

"Nothing," he says and, almost lazily, he stands up and goes to his own room. With the door open, he doesn't face her but tells her, "I think she might try to kill herself tonight."

He doesn't turn, but he hears her scuttle forward. He steps over his threshold, back into his own life, and goes to bed.

He does not stay awake to hear whether she survived the rest of the night or not.

* * *

Not expecting many reviews for this, as it's dark, sort of disturning, and not particulary that great. But... poetic license, eh? I can't help what comes out...

Will be updated daily, for 8 days. There's 8 parts. Very, very small parts. Some are only a couple of lines - it was supposed to be a one-shot but, well, it didn't make sense that way.

Sorry about the high rating - that was just being careful.

See you tomorrow!


	2. The Second Chapter

She can't wash away the sins. She must know this by now. He has never tried but, if all it took was a bit of water and soap, he would be pure as a saint. Him, the thought was laughable.It was impossible. He wants to shake her out of her stupor. False hope is for fools, or so he thinks. So his father always said.

She doesn't sink completely into the hot water like before, she is only partly subducted. The steams rises; he wonders if she can feel it burn.

"Hello?" she says uncertainly.

Oh yes, she must know of his presence; her friend must have told her.

But she can not feel his presence, or else she just refuses to probe further.

She thinks she is totally alone; but he always watches.

* * *

_Sorry it's short. Next update tomorrow._


	3. The Third Chapter

He watches her with her friends, but it's not the same. He doesn't examine her. He just finds it funny, by comparison. Everyone must know how much pain she must be in, after all she's lost, but she smiles and they smile back; they like to think that she's dealing well.

Even he knows better, as he watches from the opposite side of the room, and he is the one not supposed to understand emotions or anything of the sort.

They are ignorant, as is she. She never looks over at him. He understands. Why would she risk so much for just one glance?

He has nothing to risk now, nothing to gain or lose.

She still has her act, her fragile composure, her connection of people and faces and expressions and conversations and connections. One day it will all crumble around her and they both wait for it, with a certain amount of excitement. But she is not ready yet. She will probably never be ready.

He is ready. He keeps watching.

_Cold cold water surrounds me now,  
__And all I've got is your hand  
Lord, can you hear me now?  
Lord, can you hear me now?  
Or am I alone?_


	4. The Fourth Chapter

She has lit candles. The room is dim, dark and foreseeing. Shadows are cast upon her face, showing her for what she really is.

Soft music can be heard from far away.

She closes her eyes, and gives every appearance of peaceful.

Appearances can be deceiving, can't they?

The candlelight shows him that her face is dry.

She never cries. Not really.

* * *

_Cold, cold water surrounds me now  
And all I've got is your hand  
Lord, can you hear me now?  
Lord, can you hear me now?  
Lord, can you hear me now?  
Or am I lost_

**_This story is updated daily, that's why the chappies are so short. _**


	5. The Fifth Chapter

He never teases her. He hasn't teased anyone in so long. Perhaps he has grown up or perhaps it's because nobody laughs with him anymore; even his friends don't find it funny.

Or maybe it's because he cares little anymore.

He finds little amusement, and nobody needs anymore pain inflicted on them. There's too much pain for his feeble words to really make much of a difference.

He spends his days being silent. He can't seem to find anything else to say, if it's not a callous remark. He isn't sure what else his father would approve of.

Ever since he saw her there in that bath with that pain in her eyes, he's changed. He sees things now that he hadn't seen before; things he does not understand.

_So why do you fill my sorrow  
With the words you've borrowed  
From the only place (that) you've known  
And why do you sing Hallelujah  
If it means nothing to you  
Why do you sing with me at all?_

_

* * *

_

**_I feel a bit bad that people are reading this now. It's not really a story, more of a study. Oh, and the characters are_ not _supposed to be a mysery, so I hope this chappie sums it up for you all!_**

**_Thanks for reading and your kind reviews!_**

**_See you tomorrow!_**


	6. The Sixth Chapter

He sees the trouble on her face. Today was a hard day for her. He was unaffected by it, thankfully, but he is a little affected when he looks at the lines on her face. The lines that shouldn't be on a face so tiny.

She looks so young. Just like she did in first year. She's just a child, she shouldn't have to suffer, or so she thinks to whatever is out there listening to her; she has nothing but a vague idea of a God, yet she still finds herself praying for something to change. Sometimes she whispers aloud; the words make him tingle.

She dreams of a vague utopia, and one neither of them will ever get.

All she wants is to smile a smile she really means. All she wants is to laugh at something she finds funny. All she wants is to talk to someone about something that really matters to her. All she wants is an end to her pain.

She asks for too much, too much for this world, for _her_ world.

_Love one's daughter  
Allow me that  
And I can't let go of your hand  
Lord, can you hear me now?  
Lord, can you hear me now?  
Lord, can you hear me now?_

* * *

_I'm a bit bemused at the moment._


	7. The Seventh Chapter

She is completely alone.

Except he is there.

He does not know why he is there, but he is always there.

He does not know why.

Neither does she.

* * *

_And all I've got is your hand..._

Really short, I know. Final chapter tomorrow.


	8. The Final Chapter

He is graduating tomorrow and it is his last night.

He is with her, as always.

She washes herself, graceful as a swan. She has not lit any candles, and she has no peace; not even a mere imitation of it. There is nothing. Her darkness is not removed. She knows it, as does he. She scrubs at her skin until it starts to bleed. The redness compares strongly against her pale fragile skin, but is quickly hidden by water, but not gone. Blood is pain, and her pain lives on.

Her hair is so golden when wet…he still does not understand. How is it so golden, when he knows it's so red? Does the water tone down her character, making her no longer a member of her family, no longer a tragic victim of circumstance and beliefs? If the water tones down the red, does it really tone down her pain? He doesn't think so; he doesn't think there was anything left to take away her pain. Perhaps it Potter had lived...

She is not beautiful. He does not want to see her again. He is tired.

He watches.

She doesn't cry. She never does. Not really. Not even now.

"Goodbye," she whispers aloud. To him.

He is not shocked.

Draco Malfoy steps forward now, showing her himself properly for the first time. The shadows cannot cover what he wants them to now, he has revealed too much. By stripping her dry of her defences, he's lost apart of his, and she looks at him eagerly, drinking it, feeling the connection, the connection of their loneliness, their hopelessness, their lack of people to love anymore, the connection that has made him stay and watch her for so long, the connection which, whether willingly or not, has kept her alive, kept her from her own self-destruction.

"Goodbye," he responds back, _finality_, and leaves her.

He has a future to live, outside of his school. His father has it planned.

He does not stay awake to hear whether she survived the rest of the night or not.

Because he knows Ginny Weasley will.

* * *

_Cold, cold water surrounds me now  
And all I've got is your hand  
Lord, can you hear me now?  
Lord, can you hear me now?  
Lord, can you hear me now?  
Or am I lost? _

_Love one's daughter  
Allow me that  
And I can't let go of your hand  
Lord, can you hear me now?  
Lord, can you hear me now?  
Lord, can you hear me now?  
Or am I lost?_

_chanting Cold, cold water surrounds me now  
And all I've got is your hand  
Lord, can you hear me now?  
Lord, can you hear me now?  
Lord, can you hear me now?  
Or am I lost?_

Lyrics from Damien's Rice's _Cold Water_. On one chapter there's another verse from Damien Rice's Cannonball (Or it could be volcano, I'll have to check!)

**The End**

**Special Thanks to for the seventh chapter:** Citronella (cool new name), T, Illyria-Light (as always, thank you!), Lavender Mansworth, DG, LishaMe, Anna-Bananna890, s.halliwell24, xcrystaildreamzx, Helldarkangel1, dragonsqueaks, firesorceress1

Honestly, the story wasn't supposed to be a mystery - you were supposed to know who the characters were. I wasn't even going to name 'em by full name but I had thought I better, or be sentenced to hell because that'd be evil!

Sorry I didn't update yesterday. Life caught up.

This could probably use a backstory but I think it'd ruin it. It's shrouded with questions, I know, but I dunno the answers...

Reviews, as always, would be greatly appreciated. I've had a terrible day! Cheer me up and I'll love you forever.

* * *

_This chapter was just revised, because I just realised I updated the none proof read one, and so I did!_

_Thanks for the reviews on this final chapter are for:_

_**Unspeakable Mae, Deanna86, Anna-Bananna890, T** (I tried, thanks!) **illyria-Light** (Your support for me as a writer is really truly amazing**!), Catchy Pen Name** (I'll try do another one like this, but it'll probably be after the sixth book, to see which characters and sceneries to use!)_


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